Execution of Innocence
by StarCollector88
Summary: There is a crossroads between being who you were and finding someone you truly want to be. A new career move causes a question of identity as well as danger for everyone.
1. Chapter 1

He shut off his alarm before it barely made a sound. He didn't want it disturb his roommate. He had woken up fifteen minutes before it was supposed to ring, it must have been intuition. It was two in the morning, but he felt wide awake and prepared to face the day.

He moved quietly through the room getting ready. He grabbed a black duffel bag and began stuffing items inside. He pulled on his uniform of a black turtleneck and black pants. He tiptoed out of the bedroom to put his black shoes on. He went over a mental checklist in his head as he hefted the black duffel bag on to his shoulder. He took one last final scan of the common area before stepping out and shutting the front door.

He glanced at his watch again as he began to hustle faster to his destination. He couldn't be late that was unacceptable. There was a job to do. He was practically running when he made it onto the train as the doors closed right behind him. The train was empty at this time of night only some seedy looking characters around. He chose a seat near the back where he could catch his breath and be inconspicuous.

He leaned his head against the back of the seat. He wasn't concerned about falling asleep because he had adrenaline coursing through his veins. He closed his eyes and went over the details of the task in his mind so that he was ready. Suddenly, he slapped his arm across his bag on the seat and it made contact with something else. He opened his eyes to see that he had grabbed hold of a man's arm. The man looked as though he had fallen on hard times. The man was trying to pick through his black duffle bag to see if there was anything of value to him. His heightened level of awareness caused him to catch the guy before he even touched the zipper.

"Sorry, man. I didn't mean no harm," the man grumbled.

He nodded at the stranger and let go of the man's arm. The man walked towards the other end of the train and disappeared into the next train car. He took a mental note to not close his eyes on a late night train again. That could have been a disaster.

Before he knew it the conductor called out his stop. Thankfully, it appeared that he was the only person that exited the train at this time. Everyone else must have been riding the rails so they had a place to stay for the night. He couldn't say he blamed them; it was colder at this time of day. This freedom allowed him to move towards his destined location without fear of being followed.

He stealthily moved through the streets, choosing the side that was unlit by the streetlamps and ducking into the shadows if he heard a threatening sound. The night was unusually gloomy. Maybe it was the fog. Maybe it was because tonight's mission was dark and ominous. He walked the three miles arriving at his destination in the nick of time. He climbed the iron ladder attached to the side of the building towards the roof. There was already someone there waiting for him.

"What took you so long?" the person asked impatiently.

"What do you mean? You're always so concerned about punctuality. I got here right on time," he whispered.

He then looked down into an open hatch in the ceiling. He took a deep breath and did two Hail Mary's before jumping into the hatch.

* * *

He winced in pain as he settled back into a seat on the train. It was now eight and the train was noticeably fuller than it had been hours earlier. He wore sunglasses to block out the harsh sunlight and hide the purpling bruise under his left eye. He leaned his head back against the familiar seat just like he had earlier. The little girl that was sitting across from him while her mother slept next to her was staring at him intently. He flashed a polite smile at her in hopes that she would turn her head after the recognition. She just smiled back.

"What's your name?" she said in a light, angelic voice.

"Peter, what's yours?"

"Abigail. Are you going to work, Peter?"

Peter smiled at the little girl. "Nope, coming back from work."

"What do you do?"

He looked down towards the little girl and raised his sunglasses. "I make bad people go away."

* * *

Peter looked around the crowd at the train station to ensure that no one had their eyes on him. Then he punched the familiar code into the train station locker. _1230_. He deposited the duffle bag in there for the following day. He removed his black turtleneck revealing a white t-shirt underneath. He placed the turtleneck in the locker and removed a white apron from the bag before closing the locker door again. Peter made one more quick glance around and exited the train station for his trek back home.

Peter's body was sore and tired. The work was draining even though it needed to be done. To keep his mind off the throbbing pain pulsating through his body, he went over the list of excuses that he would tell the guys about coming home with a shiner. Usually his injuries were not as noticeable, but a black eye was sure to get attention. He decided to leave the sunglasses on for now; he didn't have the energy to explain himself right now. That would surely come later.

Before walking in the door, Peter put on the apron that had the image of looking like he had worn it all night. He took a deep breath and walked into the Pad. As expected everyone was already awake. It was as though time stopped and nothing that happened before this moment was real. The predictability of his roommates gave Peter a sense of calm, an escape from the darkness that he was experiencing outside the comforts of home. He closed the door quietly and did his best to not draw attention to himself.

"Morning, Shotgun!" Mike called from across the room.

The loudness of Mike's voice seemed to make the pain in Peter's body intensify. His senses were always more stimulated after a job. "Hey, fellas," Peter offered weakly as he made his way towards his bedroom.

He didn't get far though since politeness and curiosity overcame the others.

"How is life at the grocery store?" Mike asked.

Peter had told the guys that his new job was an overnight stocker at a grocery store (hence the apron). "You know same old, same old."

"Why are you wearing sunglasses during the day…in the house?" Micky questioned.

"It's too early for sunlight," Peter answered mechanically. "The brightness hurts my eyes after being in the cover of darkness for so long."

"Would you both leave him alone?" Davy scolded. "He has been working all night and is clearly exhausted. Save your questions for after he gets some rest, yeah?"

Peter felt his shoulders lessen in tension. He gave Davy a small appreciative smile before heading into their shared bedroom. He changed into his signature orange pajamas and winced in pain as the clothing glided over the cuts and bruises that lined his body. He lay down in bed and could feel all the aching of the night's events permeating his consciousness. As Peter drifted off to sleep, he considered the toll things were taking on him. This was a tough job, but somebody had to do it.


	2. Chapter 2

When Peter awoke several hours later, he was having a difficult time being able to move his body at all. Last night had been a particularly rough one and this feeling in his bones was one that had been all too familiar to Peter over these past few months.

The group was struggling financially, which was not a new occurrence for them, however this time was different. Normally, the quartet could get by with a few gigs a month and be a little (okay a lot) late with the rent and they were still able to keep their heads above water. But the clubs that they were used to playing at were moving in different directions with jukeboxes and djs. It appeared that live music was becoming a rarity in the trend of playing things that sounded more artificial (as Mike put it) and the live acts that were securing gigs were different than a live band. The guys were becoming later with their rent due to gigs being fewer and farther between. This caused Mr. Babbitt to raise their rent in order to secure missed payments and offer them an ultimatum; pay the rent on time every month or get evicted.

This new turn of events prompted Mike to suggest that everyone secure jobs outside of the band. Maybe not permanently, but they needed to get their heads above water. Mike began delivering pizzas using the Monkeemobile. Micky used his friendly demeanor to make good tips as a waiter. And Davy utilized his British charm to sell women's clothing at a department store. Everyone appeared to be tapping into some skill that was available to them and Peter had none to draw from. He thought back to when he applied to the toy factory and what a disaster that whole situation had caused. And his thoughts were confirmed after a horrific interview at a grocery store. Peter had been feeling defeated with the lack of income that he was bringing to the table. He had no talent or skills that he could think of.

That was until he found something long forgotten in the pocket of a pair of pants. It was the business card from a CIS agent. The CIS never had their eyes too far from the Monkees since it appeared that where ever trouble lingered the group always seemed to be invited. CIS Agent Northcote began to notice a pattern when reviewing the incidents with the Monkees afterward. He had given Peter the card and asked to meet with him. Peter had been nervous and thought that he was going to be reprimanded for something.

"Welcome Mr. Tork, have a seat. I'm pleased that you decided to meet with me today," Agent Northcote greeted.

"I didn't think I had a choice. When the police ask you to meet them it's not something to be taken lightly."

"Right you are, Mr. Tork. Although this is not the type of meeting you may be anticipating."

Peter craned his head in confusion as the agent continued.

"I've had my eye on you for some time now. I've noticed that you and your friends seem to find yourselves in quite a few scrapes."

"We aren't looking for trouble. Honest. It just seems to always find us."

Agent Northcote waved his hand as if waving away the words Peter had just said. "Of course, of course. I am not under the impression that you four go around looking for shenanigans to get into."

"Good," Peter settled back into his chair more comfortably.

"What I am interested in is a pattern I have noticed. With you in particular."

"Me?"

"Yes, it appears to me that you are a main fixture in everyone's' recounting of events."

"What kind of fixture?"

"It seems as though you're the brains behind getting out of these scrapes unharmed. You know picking locks, taking down criminals with a yo-yo, outsmarting even the toughest of criminals by foiling their plots," Agent Northcote explained.

"That's just putting my assassin's camp training to use. I couldn't do that without the help of my friends. Mike is the real brains."

"On the contrary, Mr. Tork, I think you more than capable of taking down criminals solo. I think you possess the potential to be a renowned CIS assassin. I would like to offer you the opportunity."

"Thanks, but no thanks. I'm not comfortable using those tactics on anyone. I don't even like picking locks. I do it when I need to; to save the people I care about."

"Think of it this way, by agreeing to work with us you are continuously helping the people you care about stay out of harm's way. Making the bad people go away."

"I'm going to have to decline, Agent Northcote."

At the time, Peter had declined due to being uncomfortable with that lifestyle; it didn't seem like the right fit for him. But now with the growing need for expenses and little else to work with Peter contacted the CIS. Now here Peter was, suffering physically and mentally with no signs of relief. He took two pain pills prescribed to him by CIS doctors and began the arduous task of facing his roommates. This was almost as taxing as the work itself. He had to continue to live a lie and ensure that he didn't slip up. He didn't need the others knowing the truth, that would put them in danger and Peter did not want that. He dressed himself in the loosest fitting clothes he had and walked out into the common area.

"Hey Peter, just in time we were just about to…what happened to your eye?" Mike did a double take.

"Yeah, where'd ya get the shiner, Big Peter?" Micky clarified further.

Peter recited the story that he had made up on his walk home. "Yesterday while you guys were working, I wanted to try Davy's maracas. It always looked like such a fun instrument. I was playing along with the radio and the beat was too fast to keep up with. I just couldn't control them!"

Micky shook his head. "Oh Peter."

Mike had a skeptical look on his face. "You didn't have that last night though?"

"I guess it must not have been fully formed yet," Peter lied.

Davy approached Peter and took Peter's chin in his hand, moving Peter's head and examining the eye from all angles. "Let's leave the percussion section to the professionals from now on, shall we?"

Peter nodded enthusiastically, relieved that for now the guys were continuing to buy his lame excuses. Hopefully, he didn't run out.

Davy playfully patted Peter's cheek, not knowing the sheer agony that small gesture was putting on Peter. "Now let's practice with the piano, I pretty sure that can't hurt you."

* * *

Peter had no mission planned for the evening, but that did not mean that something would not come up. It wasn't unheard of for Peter to receive a mysterious phone call asking him to come 'stock the shelves' on his day off. And when duty called Peter answered. It didn't matter how short of notice or how sore his body was, he always came through.

Tonight was one of those nights. Peter had to be hyper vigilant about answering phone calls so that the guys wouldn't notice anything was amiss. Or answer a strange call in which the voice on the other end says, "We need you again." And then hangs up. The CIS had a strict no intimate relationships policy and didn't expect that other people could be answering your phone calls. It didn't appear to be a very secure system, but Peter didn't ask questions he just answered the phone.

When the phone rang and Peter leapt into action to pick up the receiver, no one questioned it. The voice on the other end gave Peter an address nearby the place he had visited the night before along with instructions for time. Peter hung up the phone and began mentally preparing his plan of attack. He was interrupted immediately though, he had forgotten that there were other people around.

"Who was on the phone?" Mike asked.

"Telemarketing recording."

"Again? Man why do you listen to those things all the way through before hanging up? I bet that's why they keep calling us," Micky complained.

"You never know they may have something really important to say," Peter said more defensively than he meant to.

"Oh Peter, forever the optimist," Micky joked.

"I'm going to rest up before my shift later," Peter said moving towards his bedroom.

"I thought you were off tonight," Mike pointed out.

"Yeah, well they asked me last night to come in again. They really need me."

"You're going to run yourself ragged, man," Davy cautioned.

"I'll be fine."

"Listen, Peter, we are managing to stay financially afloat. There is no need to kill yourself for all of us. We're in it together."

Peter nodded and headed to his bed to rest up. Mike didn't realize how really alone in this Peter was. There was no getting out and turning back.

* * *

"Nice work, Tork."

"Thanks, Kit. You weren't so bad yourself."

Kit had been Peter's partner since he started this assassin gig. Every assassin was paired with an agency spy to be an unstoppable duo. She was a young, petite woman. But anyone would be a fool to underestimate her abilities due to her small stature. She had been proficient in several types of martial arts since the age of five. Her father was a CIS agent killed in the line of duty when she was a young girl. Kit felt as though she had something to prove and threw herself into her work. It was all she had in life.

"You look like you're limping a bit there. Are you okay?" Kit asked.

Peter noticed the difference in his gait and thought for a moment. "No, I'm fine. I had such an adrenaline rush that I think I over exerted myself today."

"I'll say! You barely left any work for me!"

"I don't know what got into me today."

"I know what it is…I think you're starting to enjoy this work. You were apprehensive at first and now I can see you really getting into it."

Peter didn't want to admit that he actually liked being violent, but the truth was that he did. This line of work was invigorating and he felt as though he was really making a difference in the world. He was cleaning up the streets and saving the innocent from the evils in the world. And Peter wasn't an aggressive person but everyone had their limits and he needed to expel angry energy in some way. He noticed a feeling of calm and relief getting out the aggression. Besides some pain and the secrecy, this wasn't at all a bad gig for him.

The only way Peter responded to Kit's comment was to shrug. "I'll see you next time, Kit."

They both parted and walked their separate ways. It was dangerous for them to be seen together outside of their missions and meetings at the CIS. There was little contact between them besides work related matters. The CIS didn't want to risk anyone getting too close to one another; an emotional connection in any way would make it difficult for agents to separate the relationship from the job. Nothing could be done successfully.

Peter attempted to walk normally on the way to the train. One of the criminals he was fighting had stomped on Peter's foot and Peter was pretty sure he now had more than one broken toe. At least he knew how to explain this new injury to the guys, it would be easy to say that he dropped something on his foot while he was stocking.

Peter sat on the train and looked out the window at the early morning light shining on the beauty of nature. It made him forget about all the atrocities that had happened during the night. It was amazing that Peter could shift from energizing pride to shame to blissfully oblivious in a matter the time it took to ride the train. And though he had to be prepared for whatever happened to show up next, it was refreshing to have moments where this side of Peter didn't exist.


	3. Chapter 3

"Another injury? Boy are you accident prone!" Micky announced.

Peter recoiled at the volume of Micky's voice. He had become extremely sensitive to sound due to being on high alert and hearing someone speak at a higher decibel than normal was almost painful.

"That's the…" Mike tried to add on his fingers, "…I don't even know how many times these past months since you started this job that you've been hurt. It seems like you come home with a new injury every day. Are you sure that you can keep up with this job?"

"Yeah, I'm surprised they haven't classified you as a liability yet," Davy quipped.

"I'm fine," Peter was exasperated at the attention. "Just a few bumps and bruises no big deal."

"No big deal? I know you're trying to do the honorable thing here and do your part, but I can see the pain in your face," Mike pointed out.

Peter looked away. Was he really showing that much pain? He was doing his best to try to hide every hint of being uncomfortable. "Remember not all these injuries happen at work."

"That's right! Those tricky maracas," Micky joked. "Seems to me that it's just Peter's luck."

"Or coordination," Davy added.

"Isn't that always the way with me?" Peter said jumping on the bandwagon.

Mike looked on skeptically. Peter could tell that the wheels were turning in his head but Mike didn't have any information to draw any conclusions. Peter knew that Mike would watch him in silence and try to figure out what was exactly amiss with this situation. This was not a time to be discovered or to put anyone else's life in danger. Mike looked away and began busying himself with guitar maintenance. It was over for now. Peter would have to be extra careful moving forward, with getting hurt on the job and with how he carried himself at home.

* * *

_Gasp._

Peter jolted awake from a dead sleep. He dreamt he was being drowned by an enemy and woke up gasping for air. His heart was racing and his head spinning, it took some time to regain his composure and realize something. He felt different. Paranoia was a tricky thing that struck deep and crept into his life. Usually he was on edge and woke up several times before the alarm, but he felt like he had had a deep sleep and better rested than usual. He looked at his watch. 2:30! He needed to catch the train and he made it just in time when he got up on a regular day, there was no way he could make it!

Peter struggled to put on clothes and ran out the door. He didn't even have black attire on today, but it didn't matter as long as he was wearing something other than those orange pajamas. He grabbed the keys and dove into the driver's seat of the Monkeemobile. He needed to get to the train station fast and running wasn't going to cut it. Peter ran every stop sign and light to make it. He got to the platform in time to watch the train leave the station.

Peter cursed himself. How could his alarm not have gone off? He was so meticulous about setting it. There was no time to think replay his actions before bed, he needed to get to Kit he couldn't leave her high and dry. The next train wasn't for hours and that only left an option that he didn't ever want to use. Driving the Monkeemobile. The car screamed 'look at me' and he didn't want any of the criminals seeing the distinct car. If anyone wanted to find him later on that car would be a clear indication. There was no choice though; he needed to get to that mission.

Peter fled the train station parking lot with screeching tires. Driving the car would get him to his destination faster since there were no prolonged stops like the train; however this was a race against time. He was cutting it close and didn't want to risk getting pulled over and needed to obey the rules of the road. Peter understood why people had road rage after that drive.

He pulled up a couple blocks away from the abandoned warehouse that he would meet Kit at. He glanced at his watch and realized that he was a few minutes late. Surely Kit wouldn't have gone on without him by herself. He went to the roof and saw no signs of his partner, just signs that she had careened herself into the building. Peter sighed irritably, he couldn't believe this was happening and he hoped that Kit was able to hold her own.

He used the equipment to lower himself into the building. Peter couldn't believe his eyes when he landed. He stared at the bodies on the ground, at the girl covered in blood. Her eyes narrowed as she stood up.

"You're late."

"I know my alarm didn't go off."

"Of all the lame excuses!" Kit practically yelled. "You're just lucky I'm so good at what I do."

"You could've waited for me," he offered as they walked towards the exit.

"They were about to leave and embark on a crime spree, what was I supposed to do?"

Peter rolled his eyes. He was angry at himself, not her. "Is there anyone else left?"

"These were all the guys in here."

"Did you check the perimeter?"

"Look I had been staking out this place for a while before you decided to show up. Trust me there's no one else…"

At that moment Kit was interrupted by a hand emerging from the shadows and grabbing her by the hair. The person pulled her back and held a knife to her throat. Peter swiftly moved into action approaching the attacker with a calm demeanor in order to ensure his partner's safety.

"Hand over the girl," Peter urged.

"Not going to happen. You see your girl here has killed all my boss's men and I think he'll want some restitution."

"Listen you bastard, I'm trying to give you the chance to make smart choices here. If you let her go then you won't have to join your buddies there."

"I'll take my chances."

In one swift movement Peter rushed the attacker and was able to knock Kit out of the way towards safety. He then began to wrestle the man for control of the knife. Peter was slashed in the forearm from wrist to elbow. This fueled his anger and he tripped the man. He then grabbed the knife that was discarded during the struggle and jammed it into the man's neck, leaving him gasping for air. Peter wiped the sweat from his brow and went to help Kit up off the ground.

"Let's go! We can't be sure that he was the last one."

The pair ran out of the building with Kit following Peter to the Monkeemobile. The two could hear footsteps behind them and the sounds of bullets whizzing past them. Against all regulations that they had come to know, Peter and Kit both jumped into the car and took off as bullets hit the car's frame.

"Always check the perimeter!" Peter yelled in frustration.

"Be on time and don't make your partner do it alone!" Kit yelled back.

They drove the rest of the way in silence. Both of them knew that mistakes were made and that they were going to get an earful from Agent Northcote.

* * *

Peter idled in the Monkeemobile outside the Pad for a few moments before going inside. Everything happened so fast it was a blur. He hadn't even had a chance to stop and think about it all, he was just jumping from one thing to the next. The meeting with Agent Northcote wasn't as bad as Peter had anticipated. Of course his boss wasn't thrilled about the choices and mistakes that were made, but he did have sympathy for human error. And he gave Peter and Kit some nights off to regain their composure after a disturbing night. Peter was looking forward to the rest and relaxation and at the same time he didn't know what to do with himself. He was assuming this new persona and it was becoming vastly different from how he had been. He assumed that his roommates may already be noticing a change and was dreading the time alone with them.

Peter willed himself to get out of the car and go inside. He knew questions were going to be rapid fired at him since he was later than normal coming home and he had taken the Monkeemobile. He wasn't as prepared for the conversation as he wanted to be since there had been so much turmoil but he honestly didn't care at the moment. The night had shaken him too much. He reluctantly turned the door knob and was met with three pairs of eyes. One concerned, one disinterested, and one oblivious.

"Peter? I thought you were in bed," Micky commented.

"I could have told you he wasn't in there," Davy said going back to flipping through a magazine.

"I could have too, since he is two hours behind when he usually comes home," Mike said with a mixture of anger and worry. "Where were you? I have been really worried."

"Why are you so worried about me?"

"Well, you were late and you've been getting hurt a lot lately. I thought something worse happened to you at work. And then when I noticed the Monkeemobile was gone too I grew more concerned. Especially since I walked over to the grocery store and didn't see the car there."

Peter felt anxiety tighten in his stomach. He wasn't ready for this. Never did it cross his mind that the guys would ever check for him at the store. Thoughts came racing through his mind. He didn't know how to answer the questions that may arise.

"I woke up late and needed to get to the store quicker. We aren't allowed to park in the main lot and the car was in the back of the store."

Mike's face contorted into a look of confusion. "Could've sworn I walked all around…maybe I missed it."

"Hard to miss that car though," Micky interjected much to Peter's disdain.

"Well, apparently I managed to do it. I can't reveal all my secrets," Peter tried to keep the conversation light.

"I can see that," Mike agreed. "What is curious though is when I went inside to ask if anyone had seen you and no one knew who I was talking about."

Peter's heart skipped a beat. "Huh?" was all he could get out.

"Yeah, I asked if anyone knew if Peter Tork was still working and the cashier looked at me like I had three heads."

"Maybe it was the sideburns," Micky offered.

Peter could feel sweat forming on his palms. "I don't know the people in the morning that well since I only work with the night people."

"I find it odd that someone wouldn't even recognize your name or description."

"I also…don't go by Peter there."

"What?"

"Yeah, I have a nickname and everyone calls me…uh…Hippie! Yeah that's right so they aren't too familiar with me as Peter."

Mike stared Peter down, but it seemed as though he didn't have any more ammo left. And without Micky and Davy's help it was no use for Mike to continue probing Peter. Peter sighed with relief and prepared to get out of the line of fire, it was almost as brutal as being shot at while driving. He slipped off the jacket he had been wearing and Mike's eyes widened.

"Is your shirt sleeve soaked in blood!?"

This got Micky and Davy's attention and all three crowded around Peter. Davy gently took Peter's arm and rolled up the sleeve revealing the long gash from wrist to elbow. Peter was so caught up in all the excitement that he was completely ignoring the throbbing pain in his arm. He cursed himself for not being more prepared for this encounter.

"Another injury!?" Micky bellowed. "Don't tell me a glass jar broke and made this near perfect incision."

"No, no, it was a…box cutter! Me and this other guy have box cutter sword fights sometimes and this one got away from him."

"That doesn't sound like something you'd participate in," Mike commented.

"This looks pretty bad Peter," Davy interrupted. "I think you need stitches."

"Naw, I'll be okay. I just really need some rest."

"Okay, you do that," Davy pushed Peter towards the bedroom.

"But I have questions," Mike demanded.

Davy turned to him. "Right now, is not the time. You can do this later."

Surprisingly, Mike backed down and Peter was able to go into the bedroom. There was little rest to be had though since he spent the entire time condemning his decisions. This had been the worst experience that he could have had personally and professionally. Good thing he had this time off so he could regain some mental capabilities because right now he was lacking in that department.


	4. Chapter 4

Peter was going stir crazy. It was his second day off in a row and he was chomping at the bit to go back to work. It was puzzling to him and he wasn't exactly sure why he needed to work so badly. Could it have been the fact that Mike was watching him like a hawk? That certainly wasn't helping anything. Mike was watching Peter's every movement and questioning him. It felt like he was on trial for a crime he didn't commit. Although there was immense amount of guilt he was feeling from lying to the guys, so it felt like all his answers or mannerisms were suspicious.

"Peter, why do you jump on the phone every time it rings?"

"Just being polite, in case you guys don't want to answer it."

"Sometimes one of us is a lot closer than you are…"

Usually Mike gave up after some time or Davy told him to lay off.

Was it that his mind was too occupied by his work to be able to enjoy his normal routine? Possibly. He was continuously replaying the events of his last mission in his head and thinking about what he could have done differently. He wanted to have another mission to prove to Agent Northcote, Kit, and himself that he was fully capable. Even though he had proven time and again that he was an invaluable asset. He couldn't focus enough to do mundane tasks or even his favorite pastime of playing and writing music. This also gave Mike some ammunition of things to question Peter about.

Worst of all though Peter was positive that the number one reason he was struggling with being home was that he loved what he did. He had a difficult time admitting that harming and killing people gave him an adrenaline rush like no other. He was making a difference in the world. And it wasn't only that, it was the satisfying feeling he was getting fighting other people. Peter was a pacifist by nature and this was going against his belief system, but dammit if he wasn't itching to get out there and kick some ass. And at the same time he had some fear in the back of his mind of losing control and getting too caught up in this world.

Peter knew that in the early morning hours today that he had a mission again. He was extremely antsy all day and pacing the house like a caged lion.

"Peter, sit down will ya? You're making me nervous," Davy said.

"Yeah, I thought Davy was the jittery one but I guess I'm going to have to think of a nickname for you too," Micky teased. "How about Panicky Peter?"

"I'm not doing anything out of the ordinary," Peter snapped as he rounded the spiral staircase on his fourth lap only to collide with Mike.

"You're right; it's not out of the ordinary for you _lately_. It _is _out of the ordinary for the Peter that has been MIA," Mike explained.

Peter stood still and didn't have the urge to move anymore. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean that the Peter that we are all used to doesn't seem to exist anymore. He's been replaced by this edgy, irritable version. And I'm wondering what has changed in the past few months that could be causing this besides working at a grocery store. What could that possibly have to do with anything?"

Peter became defensive. He felt like Mike was making accusations without even pinpointing exactly what he was suspecting. "It has nothing to do with anything. Maybe I'm just finally comfortable enough to be my true self."

"This is not you."

"It sure looks like it is. So get used to it!" Peter yelled as he went into his bedroom and slammed the door.

The other three looked at each other stunned. This was not like Peter at all.

"Something is definitely up with him," Micky spoke up.

"And whatever it is he is very touchy about it," Davy agreed.

"I have a feeling that he is not being truthful about what he is really doing. There are too many holes in his stories," Mike concluded.

"So what are we supposed to do? Ignore it? Grill him?" Micky asked.

"Those aren't going to work. It we ignore him things will just get worse. Asking him direct questions is obviously not getting us any answers and further distancing him," Davy offered.

"I think I know what to do, and it could make or break things for him and maybe our relationship with him," Mike said. "Here's what we're gonna do."

* * *

Peter synchronized his waking up before the alarm once again. He felt rejuvenated and as though he had a new zest for the day. There was a pep in his step as he readied himself with his attire and supplies. He had actually been so anticipatory about the night that he wore his outfit underneath his orange pajamas. He took his glance around the common area as he did each night before he left. Something looked slightly off but he couldn't quite put his finger on what. He shrugged and left.

Peter made it to the train station earlier than he usually did. It wasn't that the train doors shut behind him this time; he actually chose a seat and got comfortable before the doors even closed. Though for some reason tonight the doors seemed to malfunction as if on another car the first time the doors tried to close something was blocking it.

"_Must be a full moon tonight,"_ Peter thought.

Peter closed his eyes as he usually did and ran over the logistics of the mission in his head. He wanted tonight to be redemption for the last debacle. Peter's thoughts were interrupted by a ruckus coming from the next car. There was a lot of noise coming from it and Peter considered getting himself involved if there were some kind of fight breaking out. The noise died down almost as soon as it started though and Peter settled back in to his thoughts.

Peter walked a leisurely less suspicious pace to his destination. As usual he was on alert for any sounds or movements that he noticed. He ducked into alleyways and looked around, but never did see anything. He had a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach but chose to ignore it and keep pressing on. He met Kit on the side of the building. She looked just as refreshed as he felt.

"Wow Tork, you actually made it here at a decent time," Kit commented.

"Ah, I missed that biting humor. I see that your time off had done you some good."

"I could say the same for you except something is a different…you seem, I don't know the word for it exactly…Excited? Eager?"

"I've been going insane staying at home these past few days. I have a lot of pent up energy. I need to move and fight. I need to lose myself in this tonight. I'm afraid I may lose control," he smiled.

"Well what are we waiting for?"

Both Kit and Peter secured a position in front of locked double doors. They looked at each and nodded. Peter put a hand out and counted down from three on his fingers. At the one, both of them kicked in the double doors startling the five criminal occupants inside. The pair walked in what seemed like slow motion in opposite directions.

Peter was wedged between two burly henchmen. He ducked at the advancing duo and swept his leg around tripping one while coming up quickly breaking the nose of the other with the heel of his hand. He then turned his attention back to the henchman getting up off the floor. Peter grabbed a blade out of his pocket and threw it where the blade became lodged in the man's forehead, leaving him with blood trickling down his face. The guy with the broken nose was coming to attack Peter again. Peter swiftly took the blade out of the other guy's neck and threw it at a rope. The rope was suspending a heavy crate, which immediately landed on Peter's attacker.

Peter then glanced over at Kit who already had another assailant passed out cold on the floor and was practicing her martial arts kicks on the other. That left one more person that Peter recognized as being their intended target, Allister Rasmussen. Kit and Peter had been working recently on taking down an operation of foreign agents trying to find American nuclear secrets. Peter wasn't even sure of the secrets the foreign agents were looking for; all he knew was that he had a duty to protect. He went in the direction to find where Rasmussen went; he could hear Kit's heels clicking on the concrete floor behind him. Peter could hear a commotion from the left and motioned for Kit to follow him.

When the pair entered the space where the noise was coming from they noticed the leader threatening other people with a gun.

"What are you three doing here?" Rasmussen asked.

"Please sir, we didn't mean any harm," an accented voice begged.

_Great_.

Peter recognized that voice right away without even looking at the cowering trio in the corner. Davy and Micky were slouched down with Mike protectively trying to shield them from harm. Rasmussen was so focused on the three of them that he didn't notice that Peter and Kit had entered the room. Peter slipped brass knuckles on his fingers and began sneaking up behind him. Micky noticed Peter right away.

"Peter!" Micky shouted.

Rasmussen turned around before Peter could get close enough to do anything. He fired a quick shot that hit Mike's shoulder and took off running. Peter ran to Mike's side as Kit went chasing after Rasmussen.

"Mike! Are you alright?" Peter asked as he frantically moved Mike's shirt so he could assess the wound.

"Of course he isn't alright!" Micky yelled. "He's been shot!"

Mike hadn't made a comment the entire time; he was gritting his teeth and gripping his forearm in pain. Peter ignored Micky's cries and looked over Mike's shoulder. There was no entry point of the bullet. It looked as though the bullet had just grazed Mike's skin which was causing some pain and discomfort. Peter turned his attention to the wall behind Mike and saw the bullet wedged in there.

"He's gonna be okay guys, the bullet hit the wall."

"What a relief!" Davy breathed out.

"What exactly is…" Micky began.

Micky was interrupted by the sound of sirens. Kit came running into the room.

"Peter, Rasmussen got away!"

Peter stood up quickly. "Damn! And I hear that Northcote and his men are almost here. We're sure to get our asses reamed for this one!"

Micky and Davy looked on in shock.

"What is going on here?" Micky continued his question from earlier.

"I'll explain later," Peter said irritably. "Will you guys help me take Mike out the ambulance outside to get checked?"

Micky helped Peter hoist Mike up off the ground and limp outside. Davy stayed back a bit.

"Hello darling, my name is David," he said through the stars in his eyes.

"Davy not now!" Peter shouted over his shoulder.

Davy pretended not to hear him. "All that blood looks good on you. It really brings out your eyes."

Kit rolled her eyes, shook her head, and followed Peter out of the building. Davy shrugged and followed close behind unable to take his eyes off Kit.

* * *

Mike was checked out by paramedics who came to the same conclusions that Peter had. While Mike had been getting checked out, Peter and Kit were meeting with Agent Northcote. He was less than thrilled that the two were unable to complete the mission successfully.

"What the hell happened?" Northcote shouted.

"Well, you see sir our attention got diverted by these civilians," Kit explained.

"And how did these civilians get involved in this government work?"

"That's a great question, sir…" Peter trailed off and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Save it, Tork!"

"Okay…these are…my friends," Peter stammered he could see the fire forming in Northcote's eyes. "They must have followed me here."

"It isn't Peter's fault…" Kit attempted to stick up for him.

"This is absolutely his fault!" Northcote boomed. "You've put a lot of people's lives in danger tonight! And this isn't the first time your partnership has done that recently. You both know that personal relationships are against regulation. I ought to have you both canned for this!"

Peter and Kit stood and took the outbursts like professionals. Meanwhile, Davy and Micky were flinching in the background.

"But," Northcote continued, "You're both too invested in the process to quit now. Just know that this is strike two. If anything else impedes your work, you're both out. And I think you both know what that entails."

Kit and Peter both nodded passively.

"Let's go men!" Northcote called out. "And you two will receive further instruction about this. You're both required to do biweekly check ins with me now about progress in the case."

"Yes, sir," they replied in unison.

As quickly as they had come, the barrage of cop cars and agents dispersed from the scene. This left the four Monkees and Peter's partner together in silence. Everyone looked either confused, pissed, shameful, or a combination of any.

Peter broke the silence. "Kit, I'm sorry I got us in to trouble."

"Hey, you owed me one. I got us in trouble last time. And this wasn't necessarily your fault," she answered glancing over at the unfamiliar trio.

"Okay, okay, wait a minute," Mike finally spoke in what seemed like forever, "what the hell has been going on here. What was all of this?"

"I think this is a better conversation to have once we are home and safe," Peter asserted.

No one was in a position to question Peter at the moment. Peter nodded towards Kit who turned and headed in the opposite direction towards home. Peter had to tug Davy along in the direction of the train station. Tonight had been a whirlwind and whatever was going to happen when they arrived home was sure to be just as exhausting.


	5. Chapter 5

Mike was staring down an exhausted, frustrated Peter. He hadn't even asked Peter to explain himself, but everyone knew that's what was to be expected. You can't go around on secret killing sprees without providing some sort of explanation…that's only if you don't get caught. Peter didn't know where to begin. He didn't want to get the guys more involved than they already were, but he knew that this wasn't something that was going to be swept under the rug and forgotten about like all the other random shenanigans they were tangled in. This was entirely new territory.

Peter sighed. "Why did you guys follow me?"

Micky's eyes widened. "You left us no choice! You were being secretive and more guarded than I have ever seen you. We needed to know the truth."

"I had to! We aren't supposed to have relationships at all for the risk of ourselves and those we care for getting hurt. I was protecting you all!"

"And don't think for a second that you are going to turn this around to be about us invading your privacy or something," Mike cut in. "You better start explaining yourself and we want honesty."

Peter had no underhanded plans this time to lie about things. He was coming up empty and there was no use in trying to sugarcoat what had already been seen. "I was hoping that things wouldn't ever come to this point. It was supposed to be temporary and you all were never supposed to find out."

"Well, we did and now we demand answers," Mike said gruffly.

Peter slumped his shoulders. "We needed the money. You all have said it yourself before I have no skills, experience, or training. The jobs I applied to agreed. The only thing I do know how to do is be an assassin. You all know my skill set with that. Apparently others have noticed too. I was offered a position quite some time ago after one of our unfortunate encounters with the criminal world. I chose to pass on the offer, but something inside me kept me holding onto that business card. When I continued to be rejected by all the mundane jobs, I took a chance on something I could do, something I was sought out for. Something that meant something."

"How is killing other people and putting your life at risk meaningful?" Davy asked. "I thought you were completely against using the skills you had."

Peter nodded. "That's what I thought too. I had completely separated myself from those skills, believing that they were only going to cause more harm than good. And you'll recall I've had to break those skills out more and more to save myself and the people I care about most, you three. I was having a difficult time admitting to myself that when I would pick a lock or take down criminals with a yoyo, I would get this adrenaline rush. There is nothing else like it."

"You mean you developed a taste for the violence?" Davy asked.

"I developed a taste for the person I've become. Confident. Every morning when I wake up I want to be who I couldn't say I'd ever been. And it's so much more than I ever was. I'm no longer gullible, goofy Peter. I'm a serious person. I have more worth."

"With a license to kill," Micky pointed out.

"It's not a license it's a learner's permit."

"This does not determine your worth. We have always accepted you the way you were," Mike said.

Peter shook his head. "It's about how I feel. I do this job and I give everything I have to give, my skills, my life. It's all I could have asked for. Even though I standing up against everything I've ever stood for, this is me now. And I can't change back into a person I don't want to be. If I tried to change back, it would never be the same."

No one spoke. The words of Peter's confession hung heavy in the room. Not only was he admitting to taking this job for money, he was disclosing a passion for being an assassin. One that was sure to be misunderstood by everyone else. And it seemed like no one was ready to approach the elephant in the room.

Micky got up and stretched. "This has been a long night and I have to work in a few hours. I need rest."

Mike rubbed his shoulder. "I think my mind could use some time to process all of this too. Peter, promise me that you won't do anything else until we talk about this some more."

Mike and Micky walked up the stairs without even waiting for Peter to answer. Mostly, because Mike assumed that no matter what Peter said he wouldn't wait if duty called. This left Peter and Davy alone. Davy didn't make an attempt to excuse himself right away and Peter took that opportunity to gauge the situation.

"You must think I'm some sort of monster."

"I would never think that about you," Davy said putting a hand on Peter's shoulder.

"At least a hypocrite then. I'm doing all the things that I've claimed to be against. This is far from all the peace and love bullshit I preach."

"I figure, that if you're in the business of killing people it's to keep that peace and love ideal alive. I'm guessing these targets are bad guys and you need to rid the world of them to make it a better place," Davy smiled reassuringly.

Peter looked at him. "I've never thought of the two being connected that way."

"Maybe it's time to start giving yourself some more credit in life."

Peter was grateful for Davy's company. Tonight had been rough with finding his friends in danger, botching the mission, Agent Northcote chastising him, and having to open up those deep, dark secrets to everyone. It was taxing so Peter was relieved that there was support and some light shining through the clouds.

"So, Peter your partner…" Davy broke the long silence.

"Kit."

"Yes, Kit. What is her situation?"

"Situation? What do you mean?"

"Well," Davy shrugged, "I mean does she date or…"

"No, no, absolutely not," Peter interrupted. "You are not going to put the moves on her."

"Why can't I? She is a fox."

And just like that the moment was ruined again. "Didn't I just get done explaining that we aren't allowed to have intimate relationships? I mean it's bad enough having family and friends is worse, but a romantic partner. That's just asking for trouble."

"How come?" Davy demanded.

"Because being in a romantic relationship can put people off their guard. They're more vulnerable to compromising situations due to being preoccupied by their partner as well as putting that partner in danger."

"I see, you want her all for yourself."

Peter became angry. "I don't know how I can be any clearer to you. Intimate relationships are forbidden. I don't have feelings for her and I don't need you poking around where you don't belong. You saw what happened tonight. Go out and date one of your many other bimbos. You don't need her!"

Davy got up and stomped towards the bedroom. "You know I'm being supportive of this whole new Peter thing. Don't assassinate this friendship!"

He slammed the door leaving Peter alone both physically and mentally.

* * *

Peter tossed and turned all morning. He was having dreams about what could have happened to his friends with none of the outcomes being good ones. He had stayed awake to think and avoid his bedroom for a bit since Davy was most likely pissed at him. Also he was hoping to wake up when everyone was out of the house for work so he didn't have to deal with the awkward interactions that were sure to take place before Mike could continue to talk this to death. The man was an assassin of conversations.

Peter shuffled out into the kitchen right as the phone started ringing. It must have been that intuition again. He answered the phone with ease since he was alone.

"Hello?"

"Tork?"

"Yes, Agent Northcote."

"Shhh, Tork we need utter secrecy!"

"I'm alone."

"That's what we always think but you never know. Listen, after last night's debacle, I'm giving you and Fitzgerald a few days to decompress."

"Fitzgerald?"

"Yes, Tork, your partner."

Peter honestly knew so little about Kit that he didn't know her last name. "Right, there's no need for a break sir."

"There certainly is! You two have had multiple predicaments in a small span of time. You both need an opportunity to regroup and get your heads on straight. We can't have any more mistakes happening. Plus, I believe your intended target will be laying low for a while after last night. I'll call you with further instructions."

There was an abrupt hang up on the other end before Peter even was able to respond. He was frustrated. The last time he had days off it had been detrimental to his mental stability. Also, he didn't want to be at home with anyone and all the questions and criticism that were sure to arise. Peter went back to bed; at least he had somewhat of a sense of control over his sleep habits.

* * *

Davy walked home from his job at the women's clothing store. There seemed to be a rush of older and middle aged women that day and his cheeks were killing him from being pinched. It was the price he had to pay to get the extra commission even it was painfully annoying. As he walked, he looked into the windows of the shops he was passing. The bright and colorful atmosphere was taking his mind off of the dismal environment that was likely awaiting him at home. He didn't fault Peter for his comments last night even though they had stung a bit. He was more dreading the continued conversations that were going to be had about this whole Peter's job situation. Just let the man have his job and leave him alone; that was Davy's philosophy.

Davy was shaken out of his thoughts of home by a familiar sight in a coffee shop he glanced in. He made a decision without even thinking and walked inside plopping himself down into a seat at a table with an occupant already in it.

"Excuse me? Why are you here?"

"Hmm, I hadn't really thought about that…" Davy thought for a moment before flashing a winning smile, "I would say half of it is timing and the other half is luck."

The table's occupant looked less than amused and stared at him blankly.

"You know I think that we were never properly introduced. My name is David, I am Peter's friend."

"I already know who you are you introduced yourself last night. Remember?" Kit answered in an irritable tone. "What I do want to know is why you decided to intrude on my personal space?"

Davy was taken aback by the bite but it didn't slow down his pursuit. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since we parted ways last night. Call it fate; I saw you in here like you came out of nowhere and into my life. Maybe I wished your presence into existence."

Kit was still not amused. "You think of yourself as something of a charmer, a ladies' man, don't you?"

"I mean I've broken hearts so many times, I've stopped keeping track," Davy bragged hoping that new approach would get him an in. "Can I buy you…"

At that moment the waitress came over and gave Kit a coffee mug.

"Never mind," Davy recovered quickly, "What are you having?"

"Coffee."

"That was a given, but how do you take it?"

"Black."

"That doesn't surprise me. It matches the whole motif you have going on here, dark clothing, sunglasses, mysterious ambiance."

"What do you want exactly?"

"I love a girl that gets right to the point. I would like to take you out some time."

"I don't think so."

"And why not?" Davy insisted never losing his charming quality.

Kit just sipped her coffee and went on reading a book she had with her that was just as mysterious as she was. Plain black cover with no title visible. She was continuing to ignore his pursuits as he stared at her longingly from across the table.

"What are you reading?"

"You're relentless aren't you? Don't you have better things to do?"

"What could be better than spending time with you?"

"I don't know looking for someone that is actually interested in you."

"You see why would I want to find someone that would fall all over me when I could have blind hatred? Are you always this cold and intimidating?"

"Apparently I struck your fancy so it seems to be working. Are you always this cheerful and obnoxious?" Kit shot back.

"I'll have you know that with this smile, I can get away with everything," Davy tried to joke and lighten the mood.

"Not everything."

"Okay, okay, I can take a hint."

"Not as quickly as one would hope you would."

"Stop doing these things to me, I like a feisty girl," Davy said getting up and putting his hand over his heart. "I promise though you'll think of me later and will regret not seeing what I have to offer."

Kit slid her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose. "Doubtful."

"Guess I'll be going. Good luck with all this loner appeal you have going on."

As he walked past her, he felt something grab his wrist and pull him back. "I am not a loner."

"Far be it from me to question your integrity in regards to relationships, but…" Davy looked around, "you are in here alone."

"So what does that matter?"

"Nothing just seems like a lonely existence that's all. To be the only person you have to rely on."

"How could you possibly know if I have anyone to rely on or not?"

"I'm reading the clues, darling. You're here by yourself, rebuffing any sort of friendly outreach, and you're giving off some intense unapproachable vibes."

"I like being by myself. I'm the only one I can trust."

"I'm sure you trust Peter."

"Weren't you just leaving?" Kit snapped.

"I was going to but the force of fate brought me back. There's something about me that is causing you to keep me around. You must find me irresistible."

"I actually find you immensely irritating."

"And I now find you very uninviting but I'm willing to overlook that."

Kit was silent for a few moments and stared at Davy's love-struck look. "Are you willing to make an arrangement?"

"What kind of arrangement? Is going to be a situation where you use me as bait and wonder if I'll be killed or not?"

"No, just shut up for a minute," Kit said willing herself to speak her next words. "I am very starved for human interaction…specifically male interaction, if you catch my drift."

Davy nodded worried that if he spoke this would end the intriguing turn of events.

"I'm craving physical contact and even though I can't stand you…I find you physically attractive."

Davy wiggled his eyebrows.

"Stop it! Anyway, the arrangement would be no dates, no relationship, just purely fulfilling animalistic needs when I need to. Are you willing to do that?"

Davy blinked a few times as if trying to decipher if this conversation was really happening.

"I'll take that as a yes and wipe that dopey smile off your face!"

Davy immediately went stone faced. "I won't let you down…I'm positive."

Kit rolled her eyes. "You better leave now before I start regretting this and change my mind."

"How will I know when to meet you?"

"Tomorrow meet me at this place at this exact time. And tell no one! We are already in enough trouble and I don't need to add this to the list. Got it?"

Davy took the paper and saluted.

Kit put her hand over her face and shook her head. "You can go now."

Davy scrambled out the door and walked dreamily the rest of the way home.


	6. Chapter 6

"Peter? Are you down here?"

Peter sighed and put his head down on the cool steel table in front of him. "Yeah," he called in a muffled tone.

He had retreated to the basement after his second and more successful attempt at sleeping. If he wasn't able to blow off steam beating up the bad guys tonight, then he was going to be among his prized possessions. His weapons collection. Peter had been down there for hours polishing his knives and guns. It was giving him something else to focus on rather than all the mayhem that had occurred not even 24 hours before. He had almost forgotten that anyone else may be home yet. But leave it to Mike to find him.

Mike descended the final stair. "Hey, things are looking…shiny down here."

"Thanks," Peter said with what little effort he could muster.

"Look, I know this whole fiasco was tough on you. And we didn't make it any easier…"

"It isn't that you didn't make it any easier, you're all the reason that it happened in the first place! If you guys hadn't have followed me there then Kit and I could have taken care of Rasmussen and been done with infiltrating his operation. This has been a long road and a lot of work that may be in vain now!"

Mike listened to Peter vent. It was not in his nature to allow someone to rant like that if he thought they were in the wrong. Perhaps he thought Peter needed to get it out of his system or maybe he didn't think Peter was wrong.

"I don't think you all comprehend the magnitude of danger you put all of us in last night," Peter continued. "I've been trying to do my best to keep my worlds separate."

"We were just worried about you. You kept coming home with injuries and not acting at all like yourself. Everything was cryptic and secretive."

"It had to be."

"I know now what you were doing and the intentions behind it. I guess I feel like I need to always know you're safe."

"I can handle myself!" Peter snapped. "You all should know that by now, but you always still treat me like poor, innocent Peter that can't handle himself."

"Sure you know your way around weaponry but do you know when to say when? You're walking around with black eyes, limping, and probably some broken ribs or something and acting as though everything is fine."

"Everything is fine. It comes with the territory."

"Just because it's the norm doesn't make it right and you know it!"

"What do you want me to say, Mike? That I'm done? Sure Mike, you're always right and I'll give up? I'm not going to do that," Peter defended.

"So what, it's going to be your career now to get your ass kicked?"

Peter was fuming. "I don't get my ass kicked! I get minor injuries in the course of taking down other people. You seem to forget I'm an assassin. Those people aren't coming out better than I am. They're dead!"

"I'm afraid that if you keep this up you will be too!" Mike yelled back. "There is no guarantee that just because you know what you're doing that you'll always come out on top."

"What you don't understand is that no one is holding a gun to my head to do this. Yes, I initially did it for the money and now that I'm well beyond the point of being financially stable and I keep doing it. I'm not being forced by anything. This is my life now and I wouldn't have it any other way."

Mike's shoulders slumped and he grabbed a stool and sat across the table from Peter. "The last thing I wanted to do was to come down here and argue with you. I know that for some reason this is important to you and at the same time I don't know if your decisions are being clouded by the adrenaline rushes. Sure everything is hunky dory a few months in but after a while things are gonna start to wear on you. I'm not trying to come down on you and tell you what to do. What I am doing is asking you to consider everything, because I don't think that you are."

Peter looked across the table. Mike looked terrible. He had huge bags under his eyes and there was a worry behind his eyes. It was as if he had been mulling this whole thing over in his head from the minute he found out about it. He probably had little sleep and was wrestling with the memories of being shot at. Peter could feel the genuine concern radiating across the table. Maybe he owed it to his friends to think about things. After all he had started doing this and had kept it a secret for them.

"Yeah Mike, I'll weigh all the pros and cons. I have time; I'm on a hiatus anyway."

"And don't go sneaking around anymore. It's safer for you if we know all the details in case you don't come home."

"Then I have to worry about you three getting caught up in a rescue mission," Peter smiled.

"Hey, it wouldn't be the first time," Mike winked.

* * *

Davy looked down at the paper in his hand. Was it smudged? Nope. Clear as day it said _South Ridge Road._ The part that was confusing was that the north portion of the road was a well-lit street with apartments and businesses. The south part was a seedy looking alleyway. He hoped that Kit hadn't written down the wrong address in her haste or worst of all sent him on a fruitless journey.

Davy found the address number he was looking for. It was the back door to a business of some sort which had long since been closed because the doors were boarded up. He leaned against the brick building and glanced at his watch, it was one minute until the agreed upon time. He was contemplating how much time he should wait before heading back home in case she didn't turn up. He felt a presence to his left and turned his head.

"Jesus Christ!" he shouted.

"Shhh!" Kit put her hand over his mouth. "We're meeting in secret, remember? Can't let everyone know that we're back here."

Davy pulled himself away from her hand. "Well don't sneak up on a guy like that in a dark alleyway. Why are we in an alleyway?"

"It's secluded."

"Why can't we be in a hotel or at your place?"

"My place is far too risky to be at."

"Oh in case your enemies see you?"

"No, in case I try to stop seeing you then you know where I live."

"Oh I've missed that quick wit," Davy smiled. "But this is a bit disgusting, don't you think?"

Kit rolled her eyes. "You're such an amateur." She removed a board from the door and slithered inside the building. "Come on."

Davy shrugged and crawled through the small opening. Kit flicked a dim light on revealing what looked to be the remnants of an old nightclub.

"You didn't tell anyone where you were going did you?" Kit asked.

"No, I think Mike is so preoccupied with Peter right now that he doesn't care or notice what the rest of us do. And Peter was hiding out from Mike and probably didn't even notice I left. Micky's always in his own world. So I didn't even have to tell anyone."

Kit nodded and looked around the space. "This place closed not that long ago," she explained. "It's a safe place to meet up. Very isolated."

"What you don't want to be seen with me?" Davy teased.

"Shut up, you're so annoying."

"Make me."

Kit used her martial arts training to swiftly pin Davy to the wall before he had a chance to do anything else. She pressed their lips together roughly and ravaged his mouth like she had been starving for it. Davy ran his hands up and down her small frame before pulling her closer into his body. She took the opportunity to flimsily unbutton his shirt and run her hands down his bare chest.

Davy then compelled by passion lifted her off the ground as she wrapped her legs around him. He carried her over to one of the couches without breaking the long kiss. He laid her down and ran his hands through her hair and traced the skin along her neck on the way down leaving goose bumps. Kit pulled him closer, spurred on by the delicate caresses.

She bit his lip and pulled it a little further from his mouth. He rolled her over so that she was now on top of him and unzipped the top portion of the leather jumpsuit she was wearing revealing a black, lace bra underneath. Davy undressed her the rest of the way delicately and then removed his own clothing.

The moment felt like it lasted a lifetime even though it had been quick. It was more intense than either of them had ever experienced and they hadn't even gotten to the best part yet.

"Wow…that um… was uh…" Davy rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

"At a loss for words?"

"I think I've just been deprived of oxygen too long"

"Don't flatter yourself. I'm ravenous for physical contact."

"Mmmm, I love it when you talk angrily to me," Davy said pouncing back on top of Kit and pressing their lips together passionately.

Kit moaned in ecstasy and stretched her arms above her head. Davy guided his hands up her torso over her arms and interlaced their hands together. She writhed around underneath him causing friction to build between their bare flesh. Davy rolled her on top of his body which she greeted with the sweet release they had both been seeking. Kit rocked back and forth of top of Davy twisting her fingers in her hair and biting her lip. Davy used his hands to guide in body in rhythm with his, gasping for breath out of the sheer pleasure that was radiating through his body. In one satisfyingly orgasmic moment it was over.

Kit rolled to Davy's side as they both breathed heavily. Davy put his arm around her and went to kiss the top of her head. She moved away playfully and he pulled her closer and began stroking her hair.

"Still find me annoying?"

"I find it annoying that that was so sexually gratifying that I'm going to have to keep you around to do that again."

Davy smiled widely which made him even more attractive to Kit when mixed with the post sex glow. "I feel like I can arrange for that to happen."


	7. Chapter 7

Peter felt the guilt rise up in his stomach and swell through his chest now as he waited for Kit's arrival. Agent Northcote had called while everyone was at work six days after the botched mission and asked for Peter and Kit to assist on another unrelated case. This particular case was not overnight which meant that Peter didn't have to sneak around in the middle of the night. He was able to slip out under the guise of running errands of sorts. He just had to be careful not to get injured.

Peter checked his watch. It wasn't like Kit to be late to a mission. She was obsessively punctual and always chastised Peter for his lack of responsibility to time. He watched through a window at the transaction taking place. Luckily this particular case wouldn't be as taxing as the one they had been working on. Peter could probably take this on himself but he didn't want to risk anymore indiscretions. He heard rushed sounds from around the corner and a very disheveled looking Kit appeared.

"You've looked better, what happened?"

"Nice to see you too, Tork."

"You just look like you've been doing something strenuous and like you ran all the way over here. And what's that on your neck?"

Kit touched the tender mark on her neck. "Curling iron burn. What's with the third degree?"

"Nothing, I'm just shocked that you weren't already here waiting for me."

"It's a different time of day; I got caught up with something. I'm not used to it I guess."

Peter was skeptical but took her word for it. "Okay are you ready for this?"

"I've been waiting for this since our last mission."

They nodded to each other and burst through the window.

* * *

"You're still here!" Kit exclaimed excitedly.

"I waited for you," Davy answered. "You left in such a hurry that I anticipated you wouldn't want to leave things unfinished."

Kit and Davy had been secretly meeting up for almost a week now. They both were growing suspicious that this little escapade was turning into something more. Davy was ready for it, but Kit clearly still had her guard up. He didn't want to push and scare her away for now he was content just to be with her.

Davy patted the seat next to him which Kit was quick to slide into. "Sorry I had to leave so abruptly. I am exhausted."

"Work?" Davy out his arm around her.

"Yeah, I lost track of time earlier and was late getting to the job. Peter was quick to point that one out."

Davy perked up all of a sudden. "Peter? You met Peter for a job?"

"Yeah, he is my partner. What's the big deal?"

"He didn't tell anyone that he was going on a job and he was supposed to be thinking about whether to continue on with this assassin thing or not. I have to say something to Mike."

Davy tried to stand up but was caught ny Kit who pushed him back down.

"You can't though! No one can know about us! And you'd have to admit that you found out from me and then the secret would be out."

"Damn, you're right. I just don't want him getting hurt."

"Don't worry I'll look out for him," Kit nestled her body into his.

"I just hope Peter is not putting himself in anymore danger by lying to us."

"No offense, but aren't you always lying about what you're doing?" Kit traced her fingers on Davy's forearm causing feelings of electricity.

"Technically, yes. However, no one knows about this so I'm not lying."

"Lying by omission is still lying."

"You're right do you want me to come clean with everyone and stop this whole liaison?" Davy leaned downward to kiss her neck.

Kit hummed with pleasure at the physical contact. "Not quite, I'm starting to grow a little attached to you."

Davy stared at her wide eyed. "What? You mean you actually may like me and not just hate me with every fiber of your being," he feigned shock.

Kit moved her head from side to side and shrugged. "I guess you're not so bad."

"This calls for a celebration!" Davy hastily dipped Kit onto her back and began clawing at her clothes while she giggled in delight.

* * *

This had been Peter's longest break from the CIS yet. It had been a week and a half since his last mission and not a word about when things would be starting up again. It seemed as though Agent Northcote was giving the duo longer breaks between jobs now as to ensure no catastrophes. He had a lot of time to get back to his first love, music. Peter spent his days writing songs and fiddling with instrumental pieces on the guitar and piano. He had felt a sense of calm that he hadn't felt in quite some time.

Peter was beginning to feel a bit like his old self. This made for some time for reflection about everything that had transpired. Yes, he was trying to protect everyone but at what cost? It was dangerous to keep things a secret from the others. For no one to know his whereabouts. Although, no one knowing where he was or what he was doing kept them out of harm's way…well not completely since they came looking for trouble anyway. Peter came to the conclusion that he was damned if he did and damned if he didn't. And now if he chose to move forward with being an assassin then there would be no hiding anymore. The secret was already out. He didn't know exactly how he felt about that.

Almost two weeks and he was still no closer to knowing what to do about this than when Mike had initially asked him to think about it. He knew that the time was looming and it was either choose or be chosen. It was a miracle that no one had realized that Peter had gone on that last minute mission. And surprisingly everyone else was leaving Peter to figure this one out on his own. Mike was being cautious not to approach Peter with any nagging. Micky was in his own brilliant idea world. And Davy was noticeably more absent recently. No meddling made it so the decision was completely in Peter's hands which he had to admit wasn't necessarily appealing at the moment.

Peter wrote the finishing touches on a piano score that he had been practicing all week. There were no words yet, but that didn't matter. He was enjoying the free flow process of writing again. He was about to play the piece from the top when the milling about in the Pad caught his attention.

"Where are you off to, Tiny?" Mike asked.

"Just going out to meet some girls that's all."

"You've been doing that a lot lately," Micky pulled himself away from his latest project. "Not having any luck so you have to keep going back out there?"

"Far from it!" Davy sounded a bit offended. "I have to beat them off with a stick lately and I've needed a lot of time to fit all the eligible ladies in."

"Sounds accurate," Peter smiled from the piano bench.

"Okay son, remember curfew is 9:30," Mike teased.

Davy rolled his eyes. "See you all later."

"That boy gets more trim than a Christmas tree," Mike shook his head.

Peter began playing his piece. Mike approached and grabbed his guitar and began strumming along. The collaboration was seamless and much needed. Things were falling back into a normal pace again. Until the phone rang. The three Monkees stared at each other. They all knew that it was for Peter. He walked over to the phone.

"Tork, you and Fitzgerald are being requested for a meeting about further plans in the Rasmussen case. Be in my office tomorrow at nine." _Click._

Peter hung up the receiver and could feel Mike and Micky's eyes on him. "It's only a meeting. Who knows maybe they'll fire me."

"Is that what you want?" Mike asked.

"I mean it would make this decision a hell of a lot easier."

"So no decision yet?"

"Let me just see what this meeting is about. Maybe it will be a make it or break it thing."


	8. Chapter 8

Peter arrived at CIS headquarters early. He was nervous about what the discussion would be about and had barely slept. He was pacing back and forth waiting for the time he was going to leave. Micky told Peter's nervous energy was making him nervous so Peter decided to leave. He couldn't imagine the news being too bad since Kit and himself had a mission in between the meeting and the bungled one. So he figured he wasn't getting fired.

What he was afraid of was being taken off the case completely. They had done so much legwork to take down all the smaller operations that Rasmussen had going and Peter wanted to see it through to the end. He wanted to be the one to take him down. His leg was slightly bouncing in Northcote's office waiting for someone else to enter. One thing he was grateful for was that his control in being an assassin helped him to keep emotional tics in check. He may have been nervous but he never wanted to let anyone else see him sweat. It was probably nothing anyway and he didn't want to look foolish giving Northcote any reason to doubt his abilities.

Peter looked at his watch it was about time to start the meeting. Where was Kit? It wasn't like her to be late again. Maybe she wasn't even coming to this meeting. Maybe it was just Peter and they were really going to let him go. Kit must have told them that she didn't need Peter's assassin expertise anymore. The door opening jolted Peter out of his thoughts. It was Northcote.

"Tork, good to see you," he looked up from a file in his hand. "Where is Fitzgerald?"

"I don't know, sir."

"She should be here, I talked to her yesterday about this," he buzzed the intercom on his desk, "Judy, get me Kit Fitzgerald on the phone."

The pair waited in anticipation for the phone call to be transferred over. Instead, the receptionist came back of the intercom.

"I'm sorry, Agent Northcote, there's no answer."

Northcote scratched his head. "Odd maybe she's on her way here."

Peter's mind was going a mile a minute. Something wasn't right. Kit wasn't there because something terrible had happened, he knew it. That intuition was kicking in and telling him that it had something to do with the reason she was late the mission before and possibly with the previous one. He didn't want Northcote catching on that anything was amiss. If he did that would mean the end of their careers. Peter could handle that, but this was Kit's life and he didn't want to put her livelihood at stake for something that was potentially his fault. He thought quickly.

"Sir, I just remembered she isn't coming."

"What? She told me yesterday she would be here…actually no she didn't. I gave instructions and didn't wait for a response."

"Exactly! She probably didn't have an opportunity to tell you that she is…um…volunteering at a senior center."

"That doesn't sound like her. She's a loner."

"I know that, sir, Kit told me she's trying to make some changes. I remember she does this every week on this day at this time."

"I hope this doesn't impede her commitment at the CIS. She's one of the best agents I have due to that harsh indifference to mankind. Sorry to waste your time then, Tork. I guess we'll schedule another time."

"No need to apologize," Peter scrambled out of his seat and out the door.

Peter fled onto the street and walked back home aimlessly. What could have happened to her? He didn't know anything about her personal life so he couldn't go check her apartment or anywhere she might be. He was wracking his brain trying think of a point at which to begin this investigation. This was going to be a rescue mission and he didn't have any clues.

* * *

_14 hours earlier…_

Davy had more pep in his step than usual. He had feelings for Kit since the moment he laid eyes on her and was thrilled that she was beginning to reciprocate those feelings. It had only been about two weeks, but these weeks were shaping up to be some of the best of his life. He had a longing to see her and couldn't wait.

Davy looked from side to side and lifted the familiar loose board on the door. As he walked in two strong hands grabbed in shoulders. He tried to turn around and free himself but the grip was too solid. A bag was placed over his head and he was being carried out of the abandoned building by unknown forces.

_Meanwhile…_

Kit was rushing towards her and Davy's usual meeting spot. She was running behind because as she was walking out the door her phone rang. Northcote was on the other line giving her instructions for a meeting with the CIS the next morning to discuss the Rasmussen case. Kit was grateful that she hadn't left a moment sooner and was able to catch that phone call. Something was compelling her to get to the meeting spot as quick as she could. She had butterflies in her stomach. Kit was growing her attraction to Davy and was thinking about him nonstop. This was dangerous territory for her, but she was excited to see where it went.

Kit moved the board and crept into the building and turned on the light.

"I'm sorry, David. My phone rang before I left. I hope you haven't been waiting too…"

Kit trailed off. She looked back at the light she had turned on. If Davy had been in there the light would have already been on since it was pitch black in there without it. Kit glanced around the room to confirm her suspicions, Davy wasn't there. She could feel a sense of unease gnawing in her stomach. Being a spy made it so everything in life was suspicious and sometimes intuitions could be misread, but at the same time it made a person more perceptive to discrepancies in behavior.

Davy was always on time or even early to their rendezvouses. Kit made a mental note of that because he was different than Peter in that respect. She looked at her watch. She was only ten minutes late getting there. Surely, he could have had something similar happen to him. Something wasn't sitting right with her though. It was an unsavory feeling. That annoying, little bugger was infatuated with her. There was nothing that could keep him away from her…except force.

Kit began scavenging the room for clues. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. No signs of a struggle. No furniture knocked over. No evidence of anything of his left behind. Nothing appeared to be broken. What did catch Kit's eye was on old cocktail napkin sitting on the edge of the bar. It could have always been sitting there but something told Kit it hadn't been. She picked up the napkin a noticed a note scrawled on it:

_Agent Fitzgerald,_

_We have your boyfriend. If you want him back safely then come to the warehouse on Broad St. Come alone and tell no one._

Kit's eye widened as she felt fear grip her. She started breathing fast and shallow, unable to get any meaningful breaths inside. Her mind raced with all kinds of debilitating thoughts. 'How could this have happened? It's my fault he's in trouble? I shouldn't have gotten involved with someone. What are they going to do to him?' She paced around the room entertaining those thoughts for a moment before stopping and shaking her head trying to clear her mind. Thinking like this wasn't going to help her situation.

Kit needed help. But she had no one to recruit. The CIS was out of the question. She wasn't supposed to have this relationship to begin with and there were so many mistakes made recently that she didn't need this on her record too. Peter! No, he wasn't supposed to know about them and this would surely cause more harm than good for him to know. Doing this alone was a bad idea because there was so much that could go wrong. There weren't many choices available.

"I guess it's up to me," Kit said aloud before rushing out of the building.


	9. Chapter 9

_Presently…_

Peter returned to the Pad. He had thought the entire walk home about where to begin his search and was still coming up empty. He needed more time to contemplate things before going through with the only option there was, going back to the CIS and getting Northcote involved. That was plan Z because Peter knew it was going to be his last resort. And every moment he was wasting thinking, Kit may have been getting further and further into a dangerous situation.

Peter rushed inside the Pad and began making a beeline for his bedroom to think in solitude. He was blocked though by the persistent Mike.

"How did your meeting go?"

Peter felt his nerves stand on end. How could Mike be asking questions like that at a time like this? In his defense though he didn't know what was going on. Peter couldn't get his emotions in check this time. He was still radiating with nervous, fearful energy.

"Must have not gone too well because he seems even worse than he did before he left," Micky pointed out.

"What's going on, Peter? Did the meeting not go well?"

There was no point in lying. Peter didn't have the mental capacity to do so right now and he knew Mike would see right through him. This no secrets policy was going to make it impossible to ask the man to leave him alone.

"The meeting didn't happen."

"Oh so you're going to be nervous until it's rescheduled? If this is you now I'd hate to see you at the end of the week," Micky joked.

"Stop Mick! I think there's more to it than that. Peter?"

Peter took a deep breath. "My partner, Kit, didn't show up."

"Did she quit or something?" Mike asked.

"No! I don't know what happened to her but this isn't like her. Something bad must have happened. She's missing! I didn't tell my boss because I didn't want her or me to get in trouble. I need to find her and help her but I have no idea where to start!" Peter spoke so quickly that Mike and Micky had a hard time keeping up.

"How do you know something bad happened?" Mike questioned.

"It's intuition. I just do."

Mike and Micky looked at each other and nodded. "We'll help you."

"Oh no," Peter exclaimed shaking his head violently, "there's no way you guys are getting involved in this stuff again."

"We get involved in things that aren't our business all the time," Micky offered.

"This is dangerous though and I've already had you all almost hurt before, I'm not going to let that happen again."

"What other options do you have?" Mike challenged.

Peter had to admit he had nothing. No help. No ideas. Just a jumbled mess of emotional distress. Maybe this wouldn't be such a bad idea. He needed a fresh perspective and if working this job had taught him anything it's that he needed a partner. If his was missing who better to choose than the people you trust. Also, their resume` was pretty impressive.

"As much as it pains me to say this…Let's do it."

"Alright, rescue mission here we come!" Micky whooped as he did an awkward dance.

"I'm regretting this already," Peter put his hand over his face.

"Let me go get Davy up," Mike said going over to the closed bedroom, "That guy can sniff out a pretty girl within a 500 mile radius."

"Micky, can you be more serious about this," Peter complained.

"I am serious. Seriously pumped!"

Mike walked out of the bedroom scratching his wool hat. "He's not in there. Did he work today?"

Peter shrugged. He had no idea what any of them were ever doing anymore.

"Now that you mention it," Micky said as he stopped dancing and wagged his finger, "I don't think he came home last night."

"Where could he be? We need him."

Peter was quiet for a moment before something clicked for him. "So we have two missing people?"

"Oh Peter, Davy's not missing he's probably at some girl's house," Mike said.

"No, Peter's right this is concerning given the circumstances," Micky stated.

Peter glared at him. "What do you know that we don't know?"

"I don't know anything for sure, but he has been leaving mysteriously lately and he wanted to date your partner. Where there's a will there's a way when it comes to that guy and his romantic conquests. Its simple math Davy + Pretty Girl = Trouble."

"What?! And you're just choosing to bring this up now!" Mike bellowed.

"Hey, I've just been here observing everything going on around here. You and Peter have been preoccupied with Peter lately and I've been taking it all in. I haven't had a pivotal role in this story yet I needed something to do."

"I think we are overlooking the most important part of this revelation, we have a clue now," Peter spoke up. "Davy and Kit begin seeing each other. Kit is thrown off her game by being involved it the relationship. She lets her guard down and is therefore more susceptible to danger."

"What are we waiting for? This rescue mission just became a lot more personal," Mike said darkly punching his fist into his hand.

* * *

_13 hours earlier…_

Kit skidded to a halt outside the warehouse on Broad. Her adrenaline was pumping. This was crazy to go by herself but what choice did she have. There were no viable options and the note had said to come alone. She didn't even know what she was walking into. The perpetrator hadn't even left a name. All Kit knew was that she was ready for a fight.

Kit snuck through the door that was obviously left unlocked for her. She entered the warehouse and noticed the only thing in the room. Davy tied to a chair in the middle of the room. She rushed to his side

"Davy! I'm so sorry this happened," Kit said as she took the gag out of his mouth.

"It's a trap!" Davy exclaimed as soon as he could.

Kit flung her fist over her shoulder without even looking, making contact with the face of a man right behind her. "Don't you think I anticipated that?"

There was the click of a gun and the feeling of cold steel against her temple. "I don't think you anticipated everything."

* * *

Kit struggled against her bindings. She was disappointed that she had let her guard down. This was why the CIS said no intimate relationships. She had gotten him in danger and now she was too and no one knew about it. Now she was tied back to back with Davy and no chance of escape.

"Thanks for coming to save me, Love."

"Don't mention it," Kit answered irritably.

"Hey, it could be worse. You could be bound to me a few days ago when I was getting on your nerves."

"Who said you're not getting on my nerves now!"

"Well, get used to me because we are going to be stuck together for a long time…unless you have a plan."

"Trust me I'm trying to think of one."

"You're a spy don't you have some tools on you to cut ropes or something?"

"I have a blade strapped to my ankle in my boot and my thigh, but I can't reach either."

"That's it? What kind of spy are you?"

"I'm sorry I wasn't prepared to be captured today!"

"Clearly the CIS could learn something from the Boy Scouts. Always be prepared."

"You're not helping!"

"Okay, okay, maybe I can reach my arm close enough to reach the blade on your thigh."

"You'll never be able to reach that."

"I have to try," Davy said twisting and maneuvering his arms and wrists.

"Uh Davy?"

"Yeah?"

"That's not my thigh!" Kit shouted at him.

Their efforts were interrupted by a set of double doors opening. Davy was facing the doors but didn't know who was coming in and Kit was desperate to know but didn't want to speak. They interlocked fingers for support. The person walked past Davy and to the other side of the bound chairs.

"Agent Katherine Fitzgerald I presume."

"Who?" Davy blurted out.

"Interesting that you can sleep with someone and know so little about them."

Kit rolled her eyes. "What did you think Kit was short for?" she whispered.

"I don't know…Kitchen?" Davy answered.

"I recognize you, Rasmussen," Kit said her voice dripping with disdain.

"Fantastic, it's embarrassing when you have to introduce yourself to someone that has been hunting you down for so long. You're a better agent than I thought," Rasmussen provoked.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, from our more recent encounters it seemed that the CIS didn't have all their affairs in order."

"My partner and I seemed to take down many of your henchmen. I'd call that having things in order," she spat.

"Right you are, it must only be when the stakes are higher that you seem to choke."

"I'm positive I know what you want, Rasmussen."

"Is it that obvious? Okay you caught me; I want you and your partner dead."

"Why did you drag Davy into this? He has nothing to do with this!"

"On the contrary, my dear, he has everything I need for this. I've been watching you all for some time. You see he possesses a personal connection with both you and Peter Tork. An intimate relationship that would warrant an urge to save him if he were in danger."

"Not a good time to throw out the relationship card yet. We haven't actually discussed our status yet," Davy interjected.

"Oh my God," Kit put her head down. "You are not my boyfriend!"

"Harsh."

"Ahem! Anyway, like I predicted, you were compelled to save and protect him which brought you right into my clutches. And now it's only a matter of time before Tork comes to that conclusion and comes to look for you both. Then I'll have him right where I want him," Rasmussen revealed.

Rasmussen let out a menacing laugh and Davy and Kit gripped each other's hands tighter as fear engulfed them.


	10. Chapter 10

_Presently…_

"The question is where did he meet her yesterday," Mike considered. "Micky since you seem to be so much in his business lately where did they go?"

"I have no idea! The extent of my knowledge is just what I see. They could be anywhere."

"And if my thoughts are correct," Mike concluded, "then it would be somewhere very secluded so that her enemies wouldn't see as well as Peter."

"Some out of the way place that nobody goes! The Southside branch!" Micky shouted.

"No, no too obvious. And Kit strikes me as the type to take charge, so I don't think a normal Davy hang out would be accurate."

"I think we are way off and are only wasting our time," Peter spoke up. "Looking for where they were would be a wild goose chase with likely no conclusive finding. The time is ticking away. We need to figure out where they are now."

"How are we supposed to do that? We don't know anything about their contact with each other. Some of us didn't even realize they were together," Mike commented.

"I have to say that I am impressed with Davy's secrecy," Micky observed.

"It's fairly obvious that they have been captured by someone or else why would both of them be missing on their own accord," Peter talked through the details.

"Elopement?" Micky offered weakly. Mike slapped him the back of the head.

"Davy has enemies but we deal with bumbling small-time crooks that wouldn't be able to pull something like this off. Meaning that it has to be Kit's enemy and I have a pretty good idea who that might be."

"Who?" Mike and Micky said in unison.

"Rasmussen."

Mike and Micky both gasped. "Who's Rasmussen?" Micky asked.

"The guy that Kit and I have been trying to catch. The one that shot Mike and we let get away during our last mission."

"Oh yeah, I don't like him," Mike said rubbing his shoulder. "How are we going to find him?"

"I think he wants us to find him," Peter answered with a grin that was halfway a smile, halfway a threat. "Follow me."

Micky and Mike followed Peter to the basement where he stored all of his weapons. Micky hadn't been down there is so long that he looked at all the shiny metal in awe.

"Hey Pete, what does this one do?" Micky said reaching for a grenade.

Peter dove in front of him. "Don't touch anything! If you don't know what something does then what would compel you to touch it?"

"It's pretty."

Peter shook his head. "Okay, I need the best of the best for this mission…and I am limited in resources so I have the best of the mediocre…"

"Hey!" Mike interrupted.

"I know that you both lack the skill and training that I have endured, but desperate times call for desperate measures. We don't have the time to review protocol like we should so here is a brief summary. Rasmussen is a foreign agent looking to obtain top secret CIS information. Kit and I have taken down many of his men leaving him more vulnerable to attack. It is my conclusion that Rasmussen wants revenge and is looking to kill myself and Kit. He more than likely used Davy as bait in his plan…"

"Bait?" Micky questioned.

"Yes, bait as in someone that needs to be rescued. Ergo, set the bait, catch the shark, and then bleed the water red. Anyway, he knew that Kit or I would come to save Davy and leaving a perfect opportunity for entrapment. Then, the other partner would notice the loss of two people important to them and work towards freeing them. He was right to assume we wouldn't be using CIS help due to a bungled mission. What he didn't count on though was me using a ragtag bunch of misfits."

"That's us," Micky whispered to Mike.

"Now I need you to pay attention because I'm giving you highly dangerous weaponry. Mike, I'm arming you with a set of brass knuckles and a pistol. Have you ever shot a gun before?"

"Peter, I'm from Texas…"

"Fair enough. Micky…"

"I can I take this one it's very shiny and I feel like I can handle it!"

"That's a machete; it's too big for what we're doing! You know I have a very important job for you…here."

"This is a ukulele…does it turn into a gun?"

"No, it's just a ukulele. You're going to be the most valuable member of our team."

"How am I supposed to be that with this?"

"Every fight sequence needs dramatic music…"

Micky stared at Peter for a long time. "Come on, in all seriousness I can do this! And ukuleles don't make dramatic music."

"Peter we need all the help we can get," Mike reassured him.

Peter sighed. "Fine," he plucked some strings off the ukulele. "Here take these use them like a garrote."

"Got it! What's a garrote?"

Peter face palmed. "You use the strings to choke people."

"Yeah, yeah I knew that. I was just testing you."

"Oh you're testing me alright."

Peter loaded himself up with a series of holsters containing different knives, guns, and small gadgets. He cocked on last revolver before shoving it into the holster.

"Let's rock and roll."

* * *

"And then Micky convinces the guy that he is a movie producer that wants to buy Mike's song. The guy falls for it and Mike gets his money back plus some extra for this other guys that got swindled," Davy started laughing.

"Davy?"

"Yes?"

"Please stop talking! I can't think and I'm getting a headache."

"I'm sorry, darling. It doesn't usually take this long to get out of something like this and I'm bored. I just have been by myself tied up lately and it's nice to have someone to talk to this time."

"Wait, how often does this happen to you?"

"I don't know I don't really keep track," Davy answered pensively.

"This has never happened to me."

"Really in your line of work? You'd think this would happen more often to a spy rather than a musician."

"Maybe it's because you can't handle yourself as well as I do."

"With all due respect, Love, you walked in this building knowing there was danger and ended up in the same predicament as me even though I was ambushed."

"Yep," Kit said irritably, "I think quiet time would do us both some good."

"Fine by me."

Kit closed her eyes and begin running ideas through her head. Her thoughts were interrupted immediately by whistling. She gritted her teeth and tried to ignore the sound. Then the whistling turned into humming. She wished she had the use of her hands to cover her ears more than anything.

"_I wanna be free. Like the bluebirds flying by me.._"

"I'm sorry do we have different ideas of what being quiet means?"

The double doors were kicked open again and Rasmussen along with four henchmen walked in.

"How are we getting along in here?" he smirked.

"Just swell," Kit answered sarcastically.

"I'm surprised we are still here. I thought Tork would have been here by now and I could have taken you all out by now."

"All out?" Davy gulped. "I didn't do anything!"

"Yeah but what's the point of me killing you, I don't want any witnesses."

"I wouldn't tell anyone I swear."

"Really manly," Kit whispered.

"Don't you want to join your girlfriend in the afterlife?"

"He's not my boyfriend!" Kit reiterated. "You can let him go though. I don't need him following me around in the afterlife."

"You'd miss me…"

"Enough of this ridiculous banter! Gag them! It's only a matter of time now before Tork finds us now."


	11. Chapter 11

Peter, Mike, and Micky crept along the side of the warehouse on Broad Street. It was a familiar one to all of them since they had all just been there about two weeks ago. Peter was positive that Rasmussen would return to the scene of the crime to set his trap. When you want to be found you hide in plain sight. Peter motioned for Mike and Micky to duck as he peeked into the window. Sure enough Kit and Davy were there tied up and being guarded by Rasmussen and his four henchmen. Peter then motioned for Mike and Micky to follow him around the corner to the back of the building.

"Yep, they're in there alright."

"Okay, what do we do?" Mike asked.

"On my count we'll rush the scene. My guess is they will be expecting us and put up one hell of a fight. Be on alert. Watch yourself from every angle. Whenever someone has a spare moment untie the other two so they can help us fight."

Mike and Micky nodded and waited for Peter's signal. Peter watched the scene inside for the opportune moment to strike. He had been thinking on the way there about the decision he had been trying to make. He was in way over his head right now and his friends lives ended up in danger because of him. The decision was clear; this was going to be his final mission.

He gripped the edge of the concrete windowsill and tried to steady his hands. "One last time," he whispered to himself. "One. Last. Time. Let's go!"

The trio burst through the unlocked back door to the warehouse and were greeted by the cool, collected smile of Rasmussen.

"Tork, I've been expecting you."

"I figured that."

"I didn't expect you to bring guests though. No matter though we are fully prepared to take you all on."

Rasmussen snapped his fingers and the four henchmen advanced towards them. Peter signaled to Mike and Micky through hand gestures to separate. Micky ran left and Mike went right. While Peter went straight for Rasmussen himself.

One henchman followed Micky. He took a swing at the drummer who ducked seamlessly underneath it. Micky threw a punch into the man's stomach momentarily knocking the wind out of him. He grabbed the strings out of his pockets and strung it tautly around the man's neck while pushing him forward with his leg. The man clawed at his throat feverishly before collapsing to the ground. A second henchman came from the right and knocked Micky to the ground with a punch to the cheek. Micky gathered himself and touched the blood on his lip. The henchman was coming back for seconds. Micky fumbled around behind his head grabbing an old fire extinguisher and bashing the man across the face knocking him out cold.

Mike was surrounded by two henchmen. They were throwing punches and kicks that Mike was smoothly dodging like he had been doing this all his life. He used his brass knuckle clad fist to throw an uppercut to one man knocking him to the ground. The second henchman put his arms around Mike's neck in a chokehold. Mike was pulling at the arm trying to free himself, but he could feel himself losing consciousness.

Next thing he knew, he felt his breath returning to him and his throat freed. He looked over and saw the henchman being pummeled by a now free Kit. The henchman Mike had punched was headed towards Kit and Mike took the pistol out of his holster and pistol whipped the back of his head rendering him unconscious. Kit had knocked the final henchman out with a high kick to the throat. Mike scanned the room and found Micky untying Davy. There was no sign of Peter or Rasmussen.

"Come on, you guys they went this way!" Kit called out.

* * *

Peter had set his sights on Rasmussen from the beginning. He made a beeline for him immediately which Rasmussen greeted with running down a hallway. Peter was no fool. He knew that Rasmussen was trying to get him alone to be able to inflict maximum damage with no risk of being interrupted. Peter followed him anyway, because this needed to end right now. He had anger and adrenaline coursing through him veins. This was ending today.

Rasmussen had ducked into a room at the end of the hallway. As Peter walked inside, he dipped into a crouching position and missed being smashed in the face with a metal folding chair. This caught Rasmussen off guard and he stumbled a bit.

"Nice moves, Tork. You're a more worthy adversary than I anticipated."

"I'm happy to exceed expectations," Peter quipped.

"Too bad you have to waste all that talent and die today."

"I didn't plan on dying today," Peter spat back; "It wasn't on the agenda."

Peter rushed forward and forcefully knocked Rasmussen to the ground. He swept his leg under Peter's knocking him to the ground as well. Peter hopped up quickly and narrowly avoided a punch thrown his way. Both men continued to exchange blows sometimes successfully but mostly being blocked by their opponent.

"Seems we are pretty evenly matched," Rasmussen commented as they danced around in fighting position.

"Don't insult me like that," Peter's mouth quirked up into a menacing grin.

Peter reached into his holster for his revolver and noticed that it was no longer there. He looked down and then heard a click.

"Were you looking for this?" Rasmussen asked pointing Peter's revolver at him.

Peter looked in shock and horror. He didn't want to ask the question on his mind so that Rasmussen would see him sweat. But the other man must have sensed it.

"Wondering how I got this? When you fell to the floor it slid towards me and I grabbed it before you caught your bearings."

Peter stared down the barrel of his own gun with disdain. He felt sick.

"How does it feel?" Rasmussen asked.

"What?" Peter countered defiantly.

"To know that you are going to be killed at the hands of your own weapon."

"I wouldn't know," Peter said doing a roundhouse kick and knocking the gun out of Rasmussen's hands. He then took advantage of the stunned man and laid a direct punch to the face followed by a barrage of similarly fatal blows.

Peter looked into the bloody and now disfigured face of his opponent. "How does it feel to know your plan failed?" With one swift movement Peter took Rasmussen's head in his hands and twisted it violently breaking his neck.

Peter got up and used his sleeve to wipe the blood dripping from above his eyebrow. He stared down at the lifeless body before him. Nothing was exhilarating about this anymore. It was sad and disturbing. He heard a rush of footsteps running toward him and went to greet them at the door.

"Is he?" Kit asked.

Peter nodded solemnly and embraced her. He could feel the tears welling in his eyes. This had been an emotionally taxing experience and he was finally able to feel some sort of sweet release.

"Thank you," Kit whispered in his ear.

"Ahem," Mike cleared his throat, "So I um contacted the CIS and they should be here any minute. Maybe Micky, Davy, and I should get out of here before we get you guys into any more trouble."

Peter gave a slight nod. "Thanks you guys. Couldn't have done this without you."

Mike squeezed Peter's shoulder and led Micky out the door. Davy stayed back and took Kit's hands in his. Peter moved out of the way so they could have a little privacy.

"Are you alright, Love?"

"I'm completely fine."

"Take it from someone who goes through this often, you handled that like a pro," He smiled at her.

"You didn't do so bad yourself."

Davy leaned forward and puckered up but was met with a hand instead of lips. His face contorted in confusion as he waited for Kit to explain.

"I don't think this is going to work out between you and I."

"What do you mean?"

"Listen, we had some fun, but this made me realize that my job is my number one love. I can't risk it by having a fling with someone else."

Davy let her hands go and looked at the ground forlorn. He had really been falling for her. He knew though that the CIS was a tough opponent to beat. It was her whole life and Davy cared enough about her to let her have that.

"If you change your mind or your eager to go a few more rounds with me in the sack, you know where to find me," his wink and tone of voice was mischievous but there was obvious pain in his eyes.

Kit kissed his cheek and he followed Micky and Mike out of the room.

Kit and Peter walked in stride towards the main room of the warehouse to meet Northcote.

"Why didn't you ask the CIS for help in saving me?"

"I didn't want your career ruined. It is my fault you met Davy in the first place and why Rasmussen wasn't stopped the first night we attacked him. Why didn't you ask for my help when Davy went missing?"

"I didn't want you to be angry with us. I thought I could do this on my own. Turns out I am nothing without you."

"I kind of need you too," Peter said bumping into her as they walked.

"You don't need me! You've got an arsenal of partners at home."

"Yeah, but to be fair I've been working with them longer and they have an unusual set of skills."

"So I've heard."

Peter became quiet as they stopped walking. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Kit, I don't know how to tell you this but I'm resigning."

"What?"

"I'm not cut out for this."

"What do you mean? You're perfect for this job."

"I may have the skills, but my heart's not in it anymore. I can't risk my life and that of those I care about. This is not me."

Kit nodded and jumped into Peter's arms in a loving embrace. "I'll never have a partner like you again."

The moment was interrupted by the CIS bursting into the building. The other agents swarmed assessing the scene.

"Tork! Fitzgerald! What's going on here?" Northcote demanded. "I got an anonymous call that there was some commotion going on here."

Peter and Kit pulled apart and looked at each other for support. Peter flashed Kit a look that let her know he was going to take the lead. Just like they had facial expressions and gestures during missions this time was no different. There really was a strong partnership between the two. Peter was really going to miss that.

"Sir, we ran into each other outside the CIS after the meeting was supposed to take place. Kit was rushing over there from the senior center. We were going to come back in but we saw Rasmussen while we were talking and tailed him here," Peter took the lead explaining.

"Yes sir, he didn't even see us coming. Caught him completely off guard. We were able to take him down and finally end this."

Northcote eyed them suspiciously before his face softened. "Good work you two, you are my dream team. You had me worried for a bit there but you two pulled it together."

Kit and Peter both exhaled with relief. They really had pulled this whole thing off with the safety of those important to them.

"I think this may involve moving up the ranks a bit. What do you say?" Northcote interrupted their moment of relaxation.

Kit and Peter looked at each other guiltily. They knew that was the last thing they deserved or even wanted. It would be wrong to accept.

"Sir, that is a generous offer; however I'm going to have to decline. "

"Tork, this could really give you a boost in your career."

"I know that which is not the direction I'm headed. I'm resigning from the CIS."

"Tork, you are one of my top men. It took me a long time to recruit you. You're willing to give all that up?"

"I've got more important dreams to pursue."

"And I'd like to hold my current position and train a new partner," Kit added wanting to decline the offer as well.

"And there's nothing I can do to change your mind?"

"As of right now, I set on my decision.

"You're a hell of an assassin, Tork. Forgive me if I try to win you back at some point. I have to ask though, what could be a bigger dream than moving up the ranks of the CIS?"

"I'm a musician, sir. Gotta keep chasing that dream."


End file.
